


Handstands For You

by Anonymous



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Captain Geno, Fluff, Getting Together, Kid Fic, M/M, Single Dad Sid, Teacher Sid, single father AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Geno starts his day by eating breakfast in front of the TV and ends up sponsoring a youth gymnastics teams.





	Handstands For You

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bruises by Chairlift.

Geno yawns around the rim of his mug of peppermint tea before he takes a sip.

It’s too hot and not sweet enough but he doesn’t have time to wait for it to cool or to measure out the proper amounts of honey.

He’s running late as is and needs to keep a careful eye on the eggs in the pan in front of him.

The last three days he’s managed to burn them.

Normally he wouldn’t bother but the team’s nutritionist has been on him about eating a healthy breakfast in the morning. Something about how eating protein first thing in the morning could improve his game.

Geno had taken the stack of recipes and promised to look them over even though they both knew they would be destined for the trash.

He stuck them to the fridge and forgot about them until their combined weight slowly slid the magnet to the floor. When they finally reached the bottom he tossed them.

It took five days.

He takes another sip and burns his tongue before he puts the mug down and picks up the spatula to flip the eggs.

Both the yolks break.

He groans up at the ceiling as the toast pops up next to him. It smells burnt.

In the living room the weatherman says it’s going to be another unusually cold day for late November and be sure to bundle up if you’re headed outside.

He cannot catch a break.

He scrapes off as much of the blackened part as he can and covers what he can’t in butter.

He makes the most of his eggs and by the time he sits down in front of the TV his tea has cooled off enough to drink comfortably.

There is just enough runny yolk left for him to dip the point of his toast into and he takes a big bite as a loud car commercial winds down and the news comes back.

The anchors banter politely back and forth for a moment before they throw to a tape piece about the local YMCA that Geno caught the beginning of the night before.

He tunes out and focuses on his breakfast and tea as the reporter tells him what he’s already heard.

The Y has been around for thirty years but recently membership has stalled and they’ve been losing money.

_“The Y has lost over three hundred thousand dollars in last six years,_ ” the reporter says and Geno nods along. He knows that the center has a pool and a basketball court and provides art and second language classes every other night and they’re all in serious jeopardy. _“But the programs that are threatening to hurt the community the most are the ones aimed at children.”_

Geno pulls his focus back onto the TV. He hasn’t seen this part yet.

_“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”_ The footage cuts to a woman standing on the sidewalk outside of the Y. _“I count on this place for after school care.”_ She’s holding the gloved hand of a little boy who is swinging his mother’s arm back and forth looking bored. _“I don’t get out of work until five and he gets out at two thirty.”_ Beneath the thick wool coat she’s wearing Geno can see that she’s wearing scrubs. Pale blue with bright green flowers. _“I don’t have another option,”_ she says as she looks down at the boy, _“I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”_

Geno frowns as he picks up his mug. There has to be a way for him to help.

The shot changes again to a man with a small blonde girl clinging to his neck.

Geno puts the mug back down at the sight of him.

_“I think it’s terrible,”_ he says through full, pink lips. He hikes the girl up further in his arms and she turns one blue eye towards the camera. He keeps talking but Geno doesn’t hear a thing, too distracted by his mouth and hazel eyes and the way his dark hair is peaking out from beneath his gray beanie.

The camera cuts back to the reporter and Geno scrambles to find the remote so he can rewind and actually listen.

It takes him three times to look away from the cut of his cheekbones and jawline to actually _hear_ what he’s saying- his daughter takes a variety of classes there and was hoping to enroll her in swim lessons the following summer .

_“I know a lot of parents depend on this place and to shut it down with little to no warning….”_ he shakes his head and bites his lip and Geno stifles a groan behind one of his hands. “ _I just can’t believe that the city would let this happen,”_ he says finally but there’s more to his tone, like he wants to curse up a storm and the child in his arms is the only thing stopping him. “ _There has to be something that can be done.”_

Geno lets the news roll on and abandons his plate and mug for his phone and places a quick call to his financial adviser to give them a heads up.

 

It only takes a few days for Flower and Tanger to catch wind of it.

Geno is halfway through a post practice granola bar when they slap a newspaper onto the table in front of him.

There’s an article about the money he’s donated. Second page. Above the crease.

“Are you trying to out-donate us,” Tanger asks.

“I think he’s trying to out-donate us,” Flower states.

Geno shoves the rest of the bar into his mouth, wipes the crumbs from his hands over the newspaper and stands up without saying a word.

“You’re a good man, Malkin,” Tanger calls to him. “But you’re not going to beat us.”

Geno flips him off right before he pushes his way through the double doors.

 

He gets asked about it in a pre-game interview.

“You know,” he begins, “just saw the story on the news. Wanted to help.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, love this city and it’s people. They always support me no matter what. Want to support them too.”

It’s the least he could do, really.

He knows his salary is public and his parents and brother back in Russia are well taken care of. He has a beautiful home and he can only buy so many sports cars and ostentatious statues before everything starts to feel hollow.

Donating's starting to be the only thing that makes him feel good and this, helping out the Y, was a drop in the bucket for him.

He doesn’t mean for it to be _a thing._

But then the news runs a follow up story and clips from his interview are shown at six am and eight am and at five at night and then at ten and he gets texts from half the team telling him that they’re sick of his face.

They interview the mother and son again. She tells the camera how happy she is and dabs at her eyes with a tissue.

There are a few other parents expressing gratitude and the head of the Y telling him how grateful he was that it could keep going.

Hot Dad is not interviewed again but there’s plenty of B-roll footage of kids trying to bounce a basketball and tumbling around on bright blue mats and that's more than enough.

*

He hits a slump mid-December that lasts and lasts.

He hasn’t put up a point in ten games and and the team has lost the last five out of seven.

The media is relentless and on a rare Saturday off, one that everyone on twitter doesn’t think they should be having, he’s feeling bored and restless enough to bundle up and take a drive.

He has no set destination in mind when he backs out of his driveway, maybe to a late breakfast or early lunch or just to walk around the city for a bit, but twenty minutes later he’s in the parking lot of the YMCA sitting in his rapidly cooling car.

Almost all the spots are taken so there has to be something happening inside so after bracing himself for the cold he swings open the car door and hurries inside.

He’s hit with a blast of hot air and an empty lobby.

He hears someone talking on the phone in one of the offices on his right. It sounds important and Geno tip toes down the hall pulling at his scarf and undoing a few buttons on his jacket as he goes.

The hat stays on and he pulls it lower over his head like it’s some kind of disguise.

He passes a classroom with pre-teens attempting to paint fruit in a bowl and another a group of younger kids are sitting in a circle listening to a young man read Dr. Seuss to them.

The noise picks up further down the hall and he follows it until he’s standing at the double doors of a gym.

It’s sectioned off with a group of kids each doing a separate activity.

There are kids shooting small basketballs at five foot plastic hoops and a group kicking a soccer balls into a net. A few of them have short hockey sticks and are hitting a tennis ball back and forth to each other. Geno watches in interest for a few moments before he moves down to the second set of doors to peak into the other half of the gym.

This side is more organized.

Blue mats cover the floor and the kids are separated into different age groups.

The oldest kids are running at a pommel horse, pulling themselves onto it before jumping back down.

Younger kids are learning to somersault and walk on their hands although very few of them actually make it. Most of them flop onto the mat but they look like they’re having fun and the instructors are laughing as they guide a boy and a girl who have been spinning around on their own back to the group.

It’s cute and he’s glad to have had a part in helping it continue but he doesn’t want to hang around for too long.

If someone recognizes him he’s sure his face will wind up somewhere on social media and if nobody recognizes him then he’s just some guy that is wandering the halls of the YMCA.

Neither of those options seem vaguely appealing so he tightens his scarf and turns around to head for the exit.

He only makes it a few steps when he collides with a guy who isn’t looking as he comes out of the bathroom.

Geno instinctively puts his hands up to steady the guy but he ends up being the one who needs to be held.

It’s like walking into a wall and he rocks back on his feet as the other guy grabs for his arms.

They both say _“sorry”_ at the same time. Geno’s sharp Russian accent clashes with his softer one with rounded vowels.

“You’re fine,” the guys says, “I wasn’t watching where I was going and I-.”

Geno knows what’s about to happen next. The same thing that’s happen to him countless times since he left Russia and started playing for the Pens.

The guy will get all stuttery and nervous and maybe ask for an autograph or a photo and he will always be happy to oblige.

He’s signed autographs while eating dinner and in bathrooms and while shopping for cereal. Nothing phases him anymore.

He gets a good look at the guy for the first time and sees the familiar look of recognition written all over his face.

A few seconds later Geno’s own face mirrors his.

This is the guy from the interview.

The one with the cute kid and nice eyes and lips.

He’s standing right in front of him still holding onto his arms.

Inside of the gym a whistle blows and the only sound that follows are little feet running across the floor.

The kids are all crowded around the instructors at the middle of the gym.

“I’m sorry,” the guy says as he lets go of Geno’s arms and takes a step towards the door. His eyes are still wide and his face is flushed and Geno wants to reach for him again. “I just….sorry.”

He backs through the door and before swings shut behind him a little girl, the same small blonde that was in his arms during the news story, yells _daddy_ and sprints over to him.

He crouches down just enough for her to get her arms around his neck so he can pick her up.

She makes a sweeping gesture with her arm towards the mat, telling him what she did. Sid nods and kisses her cheek until she starts to laugh.

 

The man in the office is off the phone when Geno knocks on the door frame.

He’s in a rumpled sweater and he stops rubbing at his temples when he looks up and springs to his feet.

“Mr. Malkin. Was I expecting you? I’m sorry-.”

“Just stop by,” he says as he leans further into the room. “Maybe should have called first?”

“You’re welcome anytime. What can I do for you?”

“Was just wondering if there’s anything else I can do. You need more help?”

He looks confused for a moment, starting and stopping several sentences before he gestures towards the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Why don’t you sit down and we’ll talk.”

They need new equipment and could use fresh paint on the walls and Geno noticed that some of the floor looked a little uneven.

Mr. Doyle, but _please, call me Nathan_ , scribbles on a scrap piece of paper everything that Geno wants to do.

“If you think of anything else, add it to the list,” Geno tells him after the sheet of paper is full and they shake hands.

“We’re always a little worried that the Y on the front of the building is going to fall off. Every time it snows we all hold our breaths.”

“Put on list,” Geno says, “fix.”

 

He gets a call from his accountant to double check the amount.

“It’s just….it’s a lot,” she says.

“It’s for the kids,” he explains. “Whatever they want.”

 

His goodwill doesn’t carry over to the game.

He’s still pointless and the Pens lose the next three games going into their bye week after New Years.

The reporters must start to feel sorry for him and ask ‘ _doing anything fun with your time off? Going someplace warm?”_

He knows he looks like he needs a vacation but he doesn't feel like he deserves it.

“No,” he says, “stay here and work on face offs.”

Their laughter sounds uncomfortable and Geno gives them a strained smile that immediately drops off once they put their cameras down.

On the way out Horny thumps him on the back and tells him that it has to get better.

Next to him Hags rolls his eyes and says “it can’t get any worse.”

Jen catches up to him down the hall.

He’s tired and the bag on his shoulder feels like it weighs a ton and all he really wants to do is sleep for the whole week.

She holds her phone out in front of her and Geno wants no part of that either.

He was going to turn it off and stick it in a drawer so he wasn’t tempted to see what the fans and journalists are saying about them.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were donating more money to the Y?”

There’s a tweet on her phone from the Y thanking him for his donation. There’s a photo attached of new paint on the walls and new equipment being handed out to kids.

“Didn’t mean to. Just kind of happened.”

“Well, we want to do a tape piece there.”

Geno groans.

“Just a short one. A couple hours. You and the team- if you’re okay with them stealing some of your thunder. Letang and Fleury mentioned that they wanted to get involved.”

“Sure they did,” he says. “Is fine. Is good. More people helping out is good.”

She smiles. “That’s great. I think this could be a lot of fun, the team will really enjoy it and it’s good press.”

“We need.”

Her smile falters. “It’ll be fun,” she repeats. “I’ll send you the details.”

 

On Saturday morning Geno watches Flower and Tanger take a game of floor hockey with a bunch of ten year olds way too seriously and Dumo and Olli take turns kicking a soccer ball at a seven year old goalie.

Jake and Rusty are laughing at each other as they try and fail to perform cartwheels and threaten to push Sheary over when he walks by on his hands.

Geno’s hands are tacky with paint from the class he sat in on down the hall. He has to remember to pick up his painting of a bear before he leaves.

He wipes his hands on his pants as someone clears their throat next to him.

The kids have been fearless. It takes nothing for them to run up to him and pull on his hand and demand his attention.

The parents either don’t care, or try too hard to act like they don’t care.

He’s taken it in stride, signing autographs or chatting about the season, everyone tip-toeing around their recent struggles.

After over a decade of playing there’s no reaction he hasn’t seen and dealt with with what he would consider grace but when he turns to to the man beside him he’s suddenly at a loss.

The man from the interview- the man he ran into the last time he was here- is standing next to him looking very unsure of himself.

“I...hi,” he says as he sticks his hand out. Geno takes it. “I just wanted to say hi and to apologize.”

Geno tips his head to the side.

“For the other day,” he says quickly. “I ran into it you and then took off. If you even remember.”

“No, no, I remember.”

He looks stricken. “Oh.”

“No, is not bad.” He lets go at his hand and waves it towards him. “Just remember you. I’m Evgeni. Geno.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I know. I’m Sid.”

“Sid,” Geno repeats with a nod and Sid laughs.

“I'm sorry. It's just you're-. I’m a big fan.”

“Didn't know I still had those.”

“What does that mean?”

“You see us play recently or read any news articles?”

He rolls his eyes. “I try not to read those. Usually they don't know what they're talking about and you know, it's still early in the season. What do six games in December really mean?”

“Is eight games,” Geno says mulishly and Sid winces.

“Well. Still. It's still early. You'll turn it around.”

“Lots of faith.”

“You're too good for it not to turn around. You’ll be fine. I know it. You play the Caps next, right? You have to beat them.”

“Don't know,” Geno says. “Good team this year. Could be their year.”

There's a beat of silence where they stare at each other before they crack up laughing.

“They wish,” Geno says. “Should apologize too. I act kind of funny other day because I recognize you too. From TV, the news. See your interview about this place, that’s how I found out about it.”

“Oh god,” Sid covers his face with his hand. “I didn’t even watch it but everyone I work with gave me so much crap over it.”

“Was good. Look good,” he says but is quick to add, “sound good. Got me here.”

“Oh, well that’s…”

“You have daughter?” He asks, hoping to steamroll over whatever discomfort he might have just caused.

It works because Sid’s whole face lights up. “Yes. Yeah. Emma, she’ll be seven in May.”

Emma is standing at the edge of the mat holding a long ribbon and dressed all in pink.

She’s also poking Jake with the end of the stick when he fails to do a handstand.

Sid sighs. “She’s sweet, I promise. Just a little stubborn sometimes.”

“Most kids are,” Geno says, trying desperately to get the worry line out from between his eyebrows.

It finally softens when Jake successfully completes the handstand and Emma claps.

“Good kid.”

“Are you talking about Emma or Jake?”

Geno laughs, so loud and unexpected that the intern that shows up to tell him that they need one more interview before they wrap it up for the day looks intimidated.

Geno claps him on the shoulder on a wave of happiness and tells him he’ll be right over.

“It was nice meeting you,” Sid says and he holds his hand out again.

When they shake this time it’s less frantic and when the shaking motion stops neither of them let go.

“I come back sometime.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Maybe I see you next time I come. Or, maybe wife?”

Sid’s eyebrows pull together. “Wife? Do you have a- oh! You mean my wife. No, I don't have one.”

“Oh, sorry. Emma's mother then.”

“No, she doesn't, well _she does_ but….she's adopted.”

“Oh.” Geno looks back at the class and at Emma with her fine, blonde hair pulled into a neat bun on the top of her head. They don't look much alike. “Sorry, I assume.”

“It's okay. It happens sometimes.”

“Geno,” the intern prompts again and Sid lets go of his hand.

“Was nice to meet you, Sid.”

“Who was that?” Tanger asks as he pops open a Gatorade, looking far too sweaty for a fun game against children.

“Who?”

He juts his chin out towards the bleachers and Geno looks even though he doesn’t need to. “That guy you were just giggling with.”

Sid is crouched down to talk to Emma and Geno distracts himself from staring at the soft look in his eyes by lining up the bottles of apple juice into a neat row.

“Is just Sid.”

“Who is Sid?” Flower appears by Tanger’s side and takes a long drink of Gatorade.

“Daughter takes some classes here. I met him last time I come. He’s nice.”

Tanger scoffs. “Nice? He's a DILF.”

“What's a DILF?”

Flower laughs. “Don't play stupid. I've borrowed your laptop. I've seen your search history.”

A few kids have wandered over to them and Olli gathers them up to lead them away from the group giving the three a dirty look as he goes.

“Wait….I think I remember him from the first news story,” Tanger says.

Geno shrugs again and Tanger gasps.

“Did you do this because you saw him on TV?”

“Did this to help kids. He was just on TV.”

“Uh huh.”

“Stupid to do this just for one guy. How would I have known if he was married or not?”

“Is he married?”

“No.”

Flower arches an eyebrow.

“Didn't even know if he liked guys.”

“Does he?”

Geno presses his lips together and Tanger laughs with his head thrown back.

“You totally did all this for him. Oh my god.”

“What is it called when you’re unselfish for selfish reasons?”

“Have you asked him out yet?”

“Don’t even know if he likes guys, not for sure.” Geno says quickly.

“I bet he does. Go ask him out and see.”

“Invite them to a game. That’s pretty safe. You know he likes hockey and if he’s not into you it’s just a friendly gesture.”

“But if he is into you…” Tanger makes an obscene gesture with his hands using Flower as a shield.

“Stupid,” Geno says as he shoves at him.

Tanger laughs and catches himself against the table.

“Hey, hey, no pushing. Set a good example for the kids.”

“You set a good example,” Geno shoots back and Flower steps between them.

“You might as well try, G, what’s the harm in that? You’re going to kick yourself if you don’t. Invite the kiddo. Bet she’ll have fun.”

Geno looks back over at Sid.

Sid is looking back at him but quickly looks down.

“You really think it’s okay? Even if he’s not….” he trails off and Flower nods.

“It’ll be fine. Like you’re bros.”

Geno wrinkles his nose.

Tanger pushes him forward.

“Go, before another intern grabs you.”

Geno's halfway across the gym when he calls Sid’s name.

Everyone turns to stare at him and Sid freezes as he tries to get Emma into her coat.

“Sid. See you already, was fast,” he jokes. “Was thinking, you like hockey, my biggest fan.”

Sid turns a lovely shade of pale pink.

“Maybe want to come to game sometime?”

“Daddy?”

Emma is pulling on his pant leg and Sid puts his hand on the top of her head as she tilts her face up to look at him.

“Emma, this is Geno. He was the one that donated all the money so you could keep coming here.”

Geno waves and Emma taps the baton of her ribbon against Sid’s foot.

“I know who he is. Daddy watches you on TV a lot. He has your jersey.”

Sid laughs nervously and pushes her behind his legs. “Okay. That's enough.”

“Have my jersey,” Geno says, enjoying the way Sid's face has gone from pink to red, “have to come to game.” He leans around so he can see Emma who looks like she knows exactly what she's done to her father. “You come too.”

“I don't like hockey.” She says bluntly.

“Emma,” Sid pleads.

“It's true. It's the worst when you take me to your games.”

“You play, Sid?”

“I coach. High school team. I teach tenth grade history but then the old coach left for another school so I volunteered.”

“The worst,” Emma says. “It's cold.”

“Maybe not so cold up in the box. Lots of food and things to do. Other kids your own age.”

She looks up at Sid.

“Sunday game against Capitals. Afternoon so she home before bedtime.”

Sid looks down at Emma and she keeps staring up at him. She sighs.

“Don't have to decide now,” Geno says. “Give you my number, you text me if you want to go. I make arrangements.”

“I don't want to put you out.”

“No, no, don't worry. Is my box. No problem.”

Emma gets bored and starts a slow walk around them, her ribbon trailing behind her.

“You really don't like hockey?” Geno asks.

She shakes her head. “I like gymnastics.”

“Loves it,” Sid says as Emma keeps walking. “I couldn't keep her away from the Olympics when they were one. We still have some of it on the DVR.”

“Gymnastics is good. Big in Russia.”

She pauses, just long enough to say, “Russia got the silver,” before she keeps going, ribbon wrapping up their shins.

Geno laughs and Sid hisses her name.

“Is okay. Is good to have pride in home county. But silver is good too.”

“Not gold.”

“Emma, please.”

“Okay, Sid. Really. Good to have opinions too. You going to be in Olympics one day?”

“Maybe.”

“Just not for hockey.”

She shakes her head and he laughs again.

“She know how to skate?”

“Kind of. She mostly wobbles.”

“That's okay. I wobble little bit sometimes too.”

Sid smiles at him and Geno can only smile back. He doesn't realize how far up Emma has got the ribbon until he stumbles forward when she loops behind Sid.

Sid puts his hands out to steady him and they land squarely on Geno's chest.

Across the gym he swears he hears Tanger whistle.

Sid drops his hand to Emma’s shoulder and turns her the other way.

“Time to unwind.”

She marches the opposite direction and when he can Geno takes a step back.

“You think about game.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and holds it out to Sid. “Give you my number. You let me know if you come, I let you know where to go. If not.” He shrugs. “Maybe I see you around here sometime.”

Sid looks down at Emma once more before he’s getting his own phone out to give to Geno.

Geno has to retype his number three times before he gets it right, overcome by nervousness and glee.

“We should probably get going,” Sid says as he slides the phone back into his coat pocket.

Jen yells Geno’s name. She’s standing with a camera man and frantically waves him over.

“You should probably get going too before you get in trouble.”

“Yeah, you know, lots of big guys in NHL but no one scarier than Jen. She can make me do more interviews.”

“Wouldn’t want that.”

Jen yells for him again and Geno starts walking backwards towards her, not willing to take his eyes off Sid just yet.

“Text me. Let me know. Sid, you come, bring jersey. I sign for you.”

Sid laughs, the edges of it are tinged with embarrassment but Emma looks so proud that she let that little detail slip.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good. Hope to see you. You too, Emma. You have good day.”

Sid taps her on the shoulder and he gets a quiet _‘goodbye’_ in return.

It feels like a big win.

 

Geno gets a text from him after morning skate before the game.

_Sorry it took so long to get back to you. We’d love to go to the game. Hope it’s not too late._

Geno smiles at his phone, still in his sweaty gear and immediately sends back instructions for getting into the box, ending the exchange with a row of parenthesis.

“What happened,” Tanger asks as he strips down next to him.

“Sid and Emma are coming to game.”

“Oh shit.” He drops down onto the bench next to him and squeezes in close, their shoulder pads knocking together. “Really? That’s great.”

“Have to do something- have to…”

“Have to what?”

“Don’t know. Make special?”

“You’re already sitting them in the box. It can’t get much more special than that.”

“Yeah, but.”

“Just win the game. That’ll impress him enough.”

Like he didn’t have enough pressure.

 

They win. It’s ugly and he knows there’s going to be a nasty bruise on his ribs from a hard check but he finally put up a point on a Hornqvist goal to finally break his drought.

It’s not the ideal game for Sid to see, he feels like he could have done so much more, but a win's a win and he’s not in the position to complain about how it gets done.

After he’s done with media- which goes on longer than he wants it to- he showers and changes and makes sure that his hair is mostly falling in some kind of order before he goes out to scan the hallway.

He catches Jen by the arm as she’s hurrying by, probably to work on getting the highlights from the game posted to twitter and instagram.

“Anyone come look for me?”

“Like who?”

“Give tickets to father and daughter from the Y. Box seats. Thought maybe they’d come back.”

“I haven’t seen anyone. It’s been awhile since the end of the game. If you haven't seen them by now I don’t know if they’d be sticking around.

Geno hides his disappointment the best he can and lets her go then heads home to his empty, quiet house.

“This is a three hour flight. I am not putting up with your moping the whole time.”

Geno grabs his phone back from Tanger and ignores Kuni when he kicks the seat from behind, a warning to shut up. Everyone else is trying to catch a nap before they touch down in Denver.

“Not moping,” he whispers and Tanger rolls his eyes.

“You keep looking at your phone. Constantly. There’s never anything there but you heave this pathetic sigh each time. My god.”

“Not pathetic,” he mumbles and Tanger snorts.

“What is up?”

Geno looks at his phone and sighs and Tanger groans in frustration as Geno shifts his whole body in the seat to look at him.

“Invite Sid to game, you know, tickets get used so I know he come but never heard from him again. Never texted me. I thought maybe that could be the start but….nothing.”

“Did you text him?”

“No.”

“Then text him,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Can't. I invite him. His turn.”

“I can't believe you're thirty and still in high school. Just text him. Ask if he had a good time.”

Geno nods and Tanger slumps down in his seat to try to catch some sleep.

Geno pokes him. “Don't think you should have done it sooner? Will be awkward now.”

Tanger gets up and changes seats.

 

Two days later Geno still hasn't texted him.

He’s reheating pork chops in the microwave for dinner and standing over his phone trying to figure out the perfect thing to say.

Something casual but meaningful with just a hint of wanting something _more._ He won't outright ask him on an actual date but he wants to imply it.

It's complicated but he has to figure it out on his own. He doubts Tanger would help him now.

If he texts him _something_ now Sid probably wouldn’t see it until after dinner, putting Emma to bed, and finishing up whatever work he has leftover from the day.

By that time Geno will probably be asleep himself and in the morning Sid will be at work and they'll keep playing phone tag. It'll take some of the pressure off.

Geno is anxiously tapping his fingers against the side of his phone when it starts to ring and Sid’s name flashes across the screen.

“Sid,” he answers, too quick and too eager and Sid laughs in his ear.

“Hi, Geno."

“Was just about to call you,” he says as he leans against the counter.

“I’m sorry we left so quick after the game. I had a lot of fun but I could tell I was kind of pushing Emma to her limits.”

“She not have fun?”

“No, she did. She had her face painted and there were a lot of snacks and a few other kids. Someone gave her a puck which she….well….it’s mine now.”

“Nice of her to share.”

“Yeah. I think she really did enjoy herself but I didn’t want to push my luck, you know? I didn’t call you right away because I know your game schedule is kind of crazy right now and I thought you probably wouldn’t have time-.”

“Always have time to talk to you, Sid.”

He can hear Sid take a deep breath before he says “what are you doing right now?”

Geno looks at the pork chops in the microwave and says “nothing.”

 

He shows up at the park with three hot chocolates.

Sid’s easy to spot, bundled up on a bench with a book resting on his crossed leg.

When Geno gets close enough Sid smiles and slides a bookmark between the pages to keep his place.

“Hope this okay,” he says as he holds out the tray of drinks. “Not too close to dinner or bedtime. Got smallest size but still, lots of sugar.”

“She’ll burn it off. If she ever comes back over here.”

Emma is playing with a friend on the swings, talking and laughing and pumping her legs to make herself go higher.

Sid takes a cup for himself then gestures towards the bench for Geno to sit. He smiles when he does.

Sid does an amazing job of splitting his attention between listening to Geno ramble on about what life is like in Russia and keeping an eye on Emma.

He’s in the middle of telling Sid about the rink he used to skate on when he was a kid when Emma comes over for the first time.

She makes grabby hands at the cup which Sid holds just out of reach and until she turns to Geno with a put upon sigh and says “thank you.”

She takes three long sips and any fear that Geno had about it still being too hot drift away.

Sid takes the opportunity to zip her sweatshirt back up and put her hair back up into a semi orderly ponytail before she’s running back across the park.

She comes and goes as she pleases, taking sips of hot chocolate and a handful of goldfish from the ziplock bag Sid pulls out of his tote bag before she runs back to play.

Sid talks about hockey, drawing up plays in the palm of his hand and explaining how the Pens could improve their power play.

Geno asks about his team and how they’re doing. A couple of his kids are hoping for scholarships to play in college and have dreams of the NHL.

“Should bring them to watch practice sometime. You know. Like field trip.”

Emma is listing against his side but still popping Goldfish into her mouth.

“I don’t know if I have the authority to do that.”

“Then I come to you. Stop by practice sometime.”

“Don’t even joke about that.”

“Who is joking? I say I come, I come.”

“You’re trying to endear yourself to kids of all ages around the city, huh?”

“Kids.” He gives Sid a sly look. “Adults too.”

The lights from the street lamps around the park is weak but Geno doesn't need them to see the brightness in the smile that Sid shoots him.

 

Sid has to carry Emma back to the car.

She rests her head on his shoulder and barely keeps her eyes open as she tells him about the kids she was playing with and how she wants to come back again tomorrow.

“When are you free again?”

“When are you free again,” Sid asks as he buckles Emma in.

It's the hardest part of dating, if that's what this is. Geno hopes it is. He's gone so much and everyone before has gotten tired of waiting around.

“On the road for a bit,” he says. “You have school. Nights good for you ever?”

“I usually have papers to grade. I try to get that done after she goes to bed.”

“Oh.”

“But I could make some time. For dinner. Or maybe a movie at my place. It's probably going to be animated.”

“Cartoons are okay.”

“You say that now.”

*

Geno passes a delivery guy on his way up the the walk to Sid’s house.

Sid is waiting waiting at the door, keeping it open with his hip and and holding a pizza box.

“You’re right on time,” he says as Geno slips by him.

“Good directions.”

Sid balances the box in one hand and helps Geno out of his coat with the other, ignoring his protests that he can hang it up on his own.

“You’re a guest, Geno, please.” “And you have pizza.”

Sid looks down at the box. “I hope you like it. Normally it would be something healthier but….been a long day.”

Geno stops in the middle of toeing off his shoes. “Okay I'm here?”

“Yes. Of course. It's just student stuff. A couple of them acting out.”

“Give you hard time? Young, popular teacher. Hard to believe.”

“Some kids just don't see age. It'll be fine.”

“We’re watching Toy Story,” Emma says when she slides into the kitchen in fuzzy yellow socks.

“Haven't seen it.”

Emma gives him a sidelong look and Sid hands her three plates and asks her to please bring them into the living room.

Sid grabs beers and hands them to Geno and a glass of milk for Emma and herds Geno into the living room.

Emma is lying on her stomach in front of the TV and Sid nudges Geno towards the couch.

“You really haven't seen this before?” He asks as they sit down.

“Busy with hockey. Not a lot of time for movies.”

“Yeah but, not even a dubbed Russian version?”

Geno shakes his head and Sid presses a button on the remote.

Thirty minutes in Sid gets up to make popcorn.

When he comes back with a small bowl for Emma and a bigger one for the two of them Sid sits close and presses their knees together. Geno's not sure if it's intentional or not until Buzz and Woody get out of Pizza Planet and Sid stretches his arm along the back of the couch.

It's very deliberate when Sid rests his hand on Geno's shoulder and tries to hide his smile when he looks over at him.

When the movie ends Emma has her head down on her folded arms but she still puts up a fight when Sid tries to get her up.

“I want to watch the second one.”

“You were just asleep.”

“Geno, would you let me watch the second one?”

Geno looks between her and Sid. “Umm.”

“Nope. Don’t do that.” He stands over her and lifts her up by her middle, setting her on her feet and patting her back. “Up the stairs. Time for bed.”

She trudges up the stairs a quiet “night, Geno” comes from halfway up without any prompting from Sid.

“Night, Emma. Have a good sleep. Maybe watch second one next time?”

“Won’t be the same,” she says and Sid stops at the base of the stairs and shakes his head. “I’ll be right back down,” he says before he follows her up.

Geno piles the popcorn bowls and plates on top of one another while he waits and then brings them to the kitchen.

He can hear the low rumble of Sid’s voice from the second floor as he passes by the stairs to sit back on the couch.

“You didn't have to clean up,” Sid says when he comes back down.

Geno shrugs. “Is no problem.”

“We can watch another movie if you want. It’s still early.”

“Not Toy Story 2. Have to wait.”

“No,” Sid laughs. “But something else.”

Sid’s foot taps idly against the floor and he heaves a sigh.

“Sid?”

He nods and wipes his palms on the front of his jeans.

There's a charged moment between them before Sid sighs.

“I've been thinking. I think it’s best if we go slow.”

“Oh.”

“I don't ever do this. Bringing guys home. If something goes wrong and Emma gets attached-.”

“Don't think you have to worry about her getting attached to me.”

“Don't take that personally. When the adoption went through she was three and it took months for her to warm up to me and I was with her constantly. I didn't think she'd ever call me dad. It takes her awhile and if you're around enough it'll happen. But then if something happens to us and she's used to you and then suddenly you're not here...”

“Hurt her.”

“I don't think I could handle that.”

“You know, would never mean to.”

“But things happen sometimes and this whole thing-,” he gestures around the room, “between school and gymnastics and hockey practice and a million other things that I barely keep track of sometimes it’s a lot. It can get crazy.”

“My life not really normal.”

Sid gives him a rueful look. “It’s not even close to being the same. I have a whole other person that I’m taking care of. She’s always going to come first. _Always_. It’s not a game. No offense.”

Geno smiles, soft. “Is okay, Sid.”

“Some people can’t handle coming second.”

“I gone a lot. Days at a time sometimes. Can’t always be where I want to be. Love hockey but sometimes something are more important. But just can’t.”

“It’s your job,” Sid says.

“Some people can’t handle that.”

"That's why I think it's best if we just keep it friendly for now until we both figure out if we can handle it. Just to be sure.”

“I pretty sure about this, Sid.”

“I know. But.”

“Is okay, understand. Smart to go slow. No rush.”

“Thank you, Geno. Thanks for understanding.” His voice is full of relief when he says “that really means a lot.”

“No need to thank. Who wouldn’t understand?”

“You would be surprised,” he says softly and Geno feels a wave of anger toward any other man who didn’t at least try. Who didn’t think that Sid and Emma were worth it. “So after she goes to bed I usually work on getting some papers graded.”

He’s already halfway off the couch before Sid even finishes the sentence. “I can leave.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t mean you had to go. I’m usually alone and reading the same answers over and over again...if you wanted to keep me company that’s fine.”

Geno knows he should go, it's getting late and there's practice tomorrow but Sid is looking at him like he wants him to stay.

So he nods and Sid tells him to find something on Netflix while he goes to grab his work.

Geno only presses play after Sid settles back into the couch, papers spread out in front of him and another two bottles of beer.

The opening theme to The Office is still playing when Sid drops his red pen onto the table.

“Okay,” he says as he turns to Geno.

Geno’s ready for him.

He has a hand on the side of Sid’s face the first time they kiss.

He's expecting this, the slow almost shy way Sid tilts his head to get a better angle and the way his hand land softly on his shoulder.

He's not expecting the frustrated noise Sid makes before he throws one thigh over Geno's lap to straddle him.

Geno lifts his thighs and gets a handful of Sid’s ass to pull him closer.

Geno mumbles “ _amazing”_ against his lips and Sid laughs and nips at the lower one before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.

“I've had a crush on you forever,” Sid admits as he moves his lips down Geno's neck. “I can't believe you're here.”

“Like you since I saw you on TV.”

Sid pulls back abruptly, his hands still on Geno's ribs. “Is that why you donated all that money.”

“Not only reason why. Feel bad. Want to help kids. You came extra.”

Sid rolls his eyes but ducks down to kiss him again.

Geno tips him off his lap so Sid ends up flat on his back on the couch. It only takes a second for Geno to lie between his thighs.

Sid starts to pull at his shirt again and Geno reaches down to cup him through his jeans.

Sid arches his back then shakes his head.

“Wait.”

Geno moves his hand and pulls back.

“I meant what I said. About going slow.”

Geno huffs out a laugh and gestures between them. Sid still has his hands shoved beneath his shirt and he can feel how hard he is pressed against his stomach.

“This slow?”

Sid pulls his hands away and sits up. He makes sure they're not touching.

“I got caught up. You make it hard to think sometimes.”

Geno bites his lip and Sid pushes his face away.

“Don't do that.”

He runs his tongue along his bottom lip. Sid tracks the movement with his eyes.

“Don't do what?”

Sid raises an eyebrow and looks like he’s ready to move in again before he catches himself. “Slow.”

“Slow,” Geno says with a nod.

“Friends.”

“Who make out sometimes.”

“That was a one time thing.”

“Right.”

“For now. In the future….”

“In future we definitely do that again.”

“Yes.”

One of Sid’s hand is braced on the couch right by Geno’s knee and he’s looking down at it, dark lashes against sharp cheekbones, like he wants to move it. Like he wants to touch.

“Future, Sid. Right now I go home.”

Sid’s eyes snap up. “You don’t have to. We could still-.”

Geno pats his knee. “No. Should go. It's getting late and you look real good.” He does. With his mussed hair and red lips. “Only human, Sid.”

“Yeah. Maybe you're right.”

Sid walks him to the door and waits as he puts his shoes back on.

“Had fun tonight.”

Sid leans against the door. “We should do it again.”

“Have to. Have to watch the second movie.”

“There's a third one too.”

“Have to watch, Sid.”

“Whenever you're free we'll have another movie night.”

“I'll text you,” Geno says as he puts his hand on Sid’s shoulder. “Make plans.” He taps his finger against Sid’s cheek. “Is okay?”

His eyebrows furrow as Geno leans in and kisses his cheek.

“Oh. That was fine.”

Geno kisses his other cheek before he pulls on his jacket and tells Sid goodnight.

Sid stands in the doorway with a fond smile on his face as Geno pulls out of the driveway.

*

“This cannot be fun for you.”

Geno looks away from Animal Planet.

They're both on the couch at Sid’s place. Geno has his feet up on the coffee table and Sid has his feet in Geno's lap.

They've had a handful of movie night over the past few weeks.

They've worked their way through Toy Story 2 and 3, Wall-E and Tangled.

Last Thursday they watched Frozen at Geno’s place where Sid paced nervously and warned Emma over and over not to touch anything and Geno waved a hand at him and told Emma that yes, she could climb on the 4 foot penguin statue he had in the foyer.

Tonight they watched Zootopia and after Emma went to bed Sid graded papers for approximately ten minutes before complaining about a headache and stretched out on the couch.

“You want to watch something else?”

“No, I mean-.” He waves a hand around the room before he throws it over his head and lets it dangle off the arm of the couch. “I mean this. Staying in. It's a Friday night and you don't have a game until Monday. You could be out having fun.”

“This is fun. Like Dr. Pol.”

“Geno,” Sid says, voice flat. “I mean it. I know we're not _technically_ together so if you wanted to go out and-.”

“You saying I can go hook up?”

Sid winces. “If you want to. I can't stop you. I can't get mad.”

Geno gives him a bored look and squeezes his ankle before digging his fingers into the arch of his foot.

Sid tenses then relaxes with a breathy _oh._

Geno smiles, smug and does it again.

“Don't want anyone else. Happy here. Nothing wrong with being your friend.”

“But-.”

Geno presses a little harder and Sid moans. “That's cheating. It's not fair.”

“You do something about it?”

They flirt constantly and by the end of the movie one of them always has their arm around the shoulder of the other but they haven't kissed since that first night.

Geno's fine with going slow, really, but he misses it.

Sid pulls his foot out of his hands and presses his toes to the seam of his jeans on his inner thigh and slowly slides his foot up.

It's torture and Geno stops him before he gets too close.

“Fight dirty.”

“Come here.”

“Sid.” He says his name like a warning and Sid shakes his head.

“I mean come here and lie down.” He moves over and creates a bit more space between himself and the back of the couch. It's a tight squeeze and Geno has to wrap an arm around Sids waist to make himself fit but he does it.

“I’ve missed this,” Sid says, quiet and wistful. “Hanging out with someone.”

“Want to talk about it,” Geno asks when Sid links their fingers together.

“It’s nothing, I haven’t been in a situation like this in awhile. Since before Emma. And it’s worth it,” he says quickly. “I wouldn’t change her for anything in the world but between my students and the team at practice and the never ending cycle of cartoons…..”

“Emma probably smarter than me. Better at conversation,” he jokes and Sid laughs and scrubs his free hand down his face.

“She’s smarter than me too. That’s why I’m glad I have you, we’re on the same level.”

Geno shimmies down the couch trying to get more comfortable. He throws one leg over Sid’s thighs and makes Sid squirm when he sighs into the crook of his neck.

“You really think I go out and find someone else?”

“I hoped you wouldn’t. I figured I should at least give you the chance.”

Geno rolls his eyes even though Sid can’t see it and presses an open mouthed kiss to the side of his neck.

“You shouldn’t fall asleep here. It’s bad for your back. Trust me.”

Geno hums and snuffles against his neck.

 

They wake up in the morning with Emma standing over them.

Sid starts and sits up and Geno whines and presses his face into the cushion.

“I'm going to be late for gymnastics.”

“Shit,” Sid says and Geno laughs as Emma's eyes go wide. “I know, I know,” he says as he slips around her. “Don't repeat that. Go up stairs and get dressed. Did you brush your teeth?”

She shakes her head.

“Go do that. We'll get something to eat on the way.”

“I want donuts.”

“We'll see.” He pats Geno on the hip. “We overslept. I overslept. I gotta go.”

“Can drive you.”

“You don't have a car seat and I don't think it's a good idea for you to walk in with me so early while wearing wrinkled clothes..”

Geno cracks an eye open and Sid sighs.

“Parents are gossips sometimes. There's this dumb rumor going around that I'm sleeping with you to get you to fund the Y. They're just jealous.”

“Of me or of you?”

“I'm not sure.”

Geno rubs his hand against Sid’s back, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt.

“Does it bother you?”

“No, I don't think. I don't like the implication that I'm basically whoring myself out but I know the truth. It's kind of funny.”

“Could show up with you. Give them something more to talk about.”

Sid drags his fingertips through Geno's hair. It's sticking up wildly. “Maybe not today.”

Geno gets a text a week later of Emma in her new warm up jacket.

It's black with a glittery gold ribbon on the back with _Team Malkin_ following the curve of the ribbon.

_She like?_

_She hasn't let me take it off. I think she's going to sleep in it. You've officially won her over._

_Can get one in your size if you like. Win you over too._

The next text is immediate- _you don’t need a jacket to do that-_ and has Geno smiling for the rest of the day.

*

Geno is kissing Sid against his kitchen counter.

Sid’s hands are threaded through the hair at the back of Geno’s neck while his own hands are far beneath Sid’s shirt desperately trying to ruck it up.

He didn’t mean for this to happen.

It’s early and all Geno wanted to do was say hello and drop off a half dozen donuts for Sid and Emma before they both had to get to school but Sid took one look at him and yanked him through the door.

Sid had pushed him against the door, one hand firmly planted on the middle of his chest, and Geno had stupidly said _“donuts”_ to stop him from moving any further.

“Can’t drop them. Emma get upset.”

Sid rolled his eyes and took the box with him into the kitchen with Geno following hot on his heels.

“Emma still asleep?”

“Yes.” Sid put the box down on the breakfast counter. “She should be for at least twenty minutes.”

That’s all Geno needed to hear to push him against the counter next to the fridge and kiss the smile off Sid’s mouth.

“This not slow,” Geno says as Sid tugs on his hair to move his head to the side so he can start to kiss a path down his throat.

“It’s been two weeks since we’ve seen each other.” His words are clipped and his breath burns hot against Geno’s skin.

Their schedules have not meshed well recently. Geno has been playing more back to back games than any team should have to and Sid’s hockey team is getting ready for their playoffs and there’s just no time.

“I have barely gotten a minute to myself.” He pulls back with a raised eyebrow to make sure Geno understands what he means. “And if I do get one I’m just too tired to do anything about it so right now I need you to touch me. Please.”

Geno kisses him again and gropes a hand down and tries to lift Sid onto the counter.

Sid throws an arm out to steady himself and knocks a mug off the counter.

It shatters on the floor and they stop kissing to look at it.

“Was important?”

Sid shakes his head. I chaperoned a school trip to the liberty bell a few years ago.” He lifts himself onto the counter and tugs Geno between his knees. “Got it at the gift shop. You can get me a new one next time you're in Philadelphia.”

“Philly sucks,” Geno says as he cups Sids face to turn him into another kiss. “Missed this.”

Sid laughs. “We've only done this once before.”

“So good at it though.”

Sid hums and takes one of Geno’s hands that’s been gripping his waist and guides it down to the front of his jeans.

His head hits the cabinet behind him when Geno gives him a squeeze.

“God,” Sid sighs and drops his forehead against Geno’s shoulder. “Fuck.”

Geno does it again and smiles into Sid’s hair when Sid wraps his legs more tightly around his waist.

“This okay?” Geno asks, his fingers hovering above the button of Sid’s pants and Sid digs his fingers into Geno’s shoulder and nods.

There are so many things he wants to do. The tile floor would be hard on his knees but he’d do it.

“What do you like,” he asks and scoffs when Sid weakly says _“anything”_ because he’s right back where he started. Geno hesitates for a moment and figures that Sid probably won’t last long enough for his knees to really start to hurt.

He has Sid’s zipper halfway down when Sid suddenly bats at his hands, hops off the counter, zips himself back up, and leans against the breakfast counter with his chin in his palm looking entirely too casual for what they were just about to do.

Geno is wildly confused and it takes him a moment before can hear footsteps on the stairs then Sid brightly saying “good morning, honey, did you sleep well.”

Emma’s hair is a mess and she’s rubbing at her eyes but when she gets them to focus they land right on Geno.

“Geno’s here.”

“Brought donuts.” He pushes the box towards her and shakes his head at how dumb he sounds.

Sid covers his face with his hand but Emma’s sleepy eyes go round.

“Can I have one?”

“Is why I brought.” He shoots a look at Sid. “If your dad says it's okay.”

Sid waves a hand and Geno flips open the box as Emma pulls herself on a stool to get a good look.

She takes her time picking between one with pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles and one shaped like a star filled with raspberry jelly and topped with vanilla icing.

She grabs the one with the pink frosting and before she takes a bite she looks at Sid. “Can I eat this in the living room while I watch TV,” she asks like she’s seeing how much she can get away with.

Sid grabs the basket of napkins and holds them out to her. She grabs a fistful before scrambling down and running off to the living room.

Sid waits until he hears the sound of the television before he says “I’m even more frustrated than I was before.”

Geno lays a heavy hand between his shoulders blades.

“Not good, Sid. Can’t let yourself get this worked up. Not healthy.”

“Not like I can help it. How do you do it when you're on the road so much?”

“Am old guy. Get room to myself.”

Sid laughs, a little bitter, and Geno traces the edge of his hairline with his fingertips. It's a little sweaty and he presses his body closer.

“Should go now.”

Sid looks up at him.

“Go take shower. Think you need one.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Sid’s jaw and feels a spot Sid missed while shaving against his lips. “You think of this. Probably won't take long.”

“Geno.”

“Think of you,” he says as he rubs his thumb back and forth against Sid’s hip. “Always think of you when I'm alone. Never take long.”

Sid squeezes his eyes shut and sways a bit on his feet.

“Go.” He pushes Sid towards the stairs. “You go. I’ll clean up mug and go eat donut while I watch Doc Mcstuffins.”

He laughs and kisses him, soft and sweet, and mumbles “you're the best,” against his mouth.

“Oh,” Geno says as he picks up the biggest shard of ceramic. “I know.”

Geno gets a cruller and splits a jelly donut with Emma while Sid’s upstairs.

Emma wipes her mouth on her sleeve and Geno laughs and throws a spare napkin at her.

When Sid comes down, barely fifteen minutes later, Emma has wiped most of the jelly off her face and taken a spot close to Geno on the couch.

He stands there staring at them in the same pants but a different shirt with his hair still damp until a commercial comes on and he interrupts.

“Are you all hopped up on sugar now?”

“I’m fine,” she says but the way she springs off the couch and races to him is unconvincing.

Sid cups his hands around her face and wipes away some lingering frosting with his thumbs. “I’m not going to have to apologize to your teacher when I pick you up this afternoon, am I?”

She shakes her head but she’s bouncing on her toes and making Sid laugh.

“Run upstairs and wash your face and brush your teeth. I’ll be up in a minute.”

She spins out of his arms and runs back to Geno.

“Thank you for the donuts.”

“You're welcome.” He’s shocked and pleased and when he looks up at Sid, Sid’s looking down at the floor. Geno pats her on the head. “Have fun at school. Learn lots.”

She nods then tears up the stairs, blonde hair flying behind her.

Sid’s still not looking at Geno when he stands up, fiddling with his cuffs as an excuse not to meet his eyes.

Geno bends his knees and taps his chin and Sid sighs.

“Good now?”

His skin is flushed and Geno's not sure if that's from embarrassment or the hot water.

“Yes. I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have thrown myself at you like that.”

“Is okay, Sid.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t want you to think that I’m using you or that I forced you-.”

“Didn’t ask me to come here, Sid. Wanted to see you. Kiss you back because I wanted to. Know you’re not using me.”

“I really like you,” Sid blurts out. “A lot.”

Geno brings a hand up to Sid’s face and kisses him soundly.

“You really think about me,” Sid asks, color high on his cheeks.

The heel of his hand has messed up the collar on Sid’s shirt and Geno takes his time straightening it out, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobs when his fingers touch his skin before he answers.

“I think about you all the time.”

*

“You coming out tonight?” Phil asks.

They've just won against the Rangers at MSG and Geno's getting back into his game day suit.

“You haven't picked up in a minute,” Hags says. “This is the place to do it.”

“No. Go back to hotel.”

Tanger wraps his tie around his hand and sticks it into his pocket. “He can't pick up. He's got a boyfriend now.”

“Phone sex,” Hags says with a wink.

“No.”

“Skype sex then, that’s better.”

Some of the guys whistle and Geno shakes his head.

“None of your business,” he snaps but Horny still smacks his ass on the way out.

Tanger presses his fist to his shoulder as the rest of the team files out. “Everything going okay with you and Sid?”

Geno lights up at the sound of his name. “Everything great. Sid is so great and Emma- she’s so smart and funny and I was worried she wouldn’t like me, still don’t like hockey, but I think we’re okay now.”

“Aren’t you glad you invited them to the game now? Flower and I were right, weren’t we?”

“Never admit that,” he says but he bumps his shoulder into Tanger’s anyways.

Tanger bumps his back.

“Be honest. You’re going back to the hotel for some serious Skype sex right now, aren’t you?”

“No, just talk. No sex yet.”

“Really?” “We talk, it’s best we go slow. Not just the two of us, you know? Best to go slow and and make sure.”

“And you’re okay with that?” “Of course okay. Love.”

He stops and Tanger’s eyebrows shoot up. “Whoa.”

“Whoa,” Geno says back.

“You love him?”

“I….just came out.”

“That’s the first time you’ve said it?”

He nods and sits down in his stall. Tanger sits beside him.

“Are you freaking out?”

Geno takes a deep breath and holds it. He lets it out slowly and answers honestly.

“No. Should I be?”

“Not if that’s how you feel.”

“Fast.”

“Love at first sight happens all the time. This is nothing.”

“This is serious with him. Want it to be serious.”

“Well it sounds like you're already there.” He stands and squeezes Geno's shoulder. “Come on. Bus will leave without us and you gotta call your man.”

 

“It’s late,” Sid says when he answers his phone.

Geno smiles at his voice and pulls at his tie. “Too late? You already in bed?”

“No,” Sid pauses to yawn. “I’m catching up on grading but you have to be exhausted.”

“One game not enough to make me tired. Not that old.”

“Did the rest of the team go out?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t,” Sid says, like that proves a point.

“Could have. Wanted to talk to you. How was your day? How did Emma do in school? Have spelling test, right?”

Emma did have a spelling test and she thinks she did okay even though she knows she misspelled ocean and Sid had a pen explode all over him during third period and swears that it wasn’t funny when Geno starts to laugh even though he’s laughing himself.

“I miss you,” Sid says right as Geno feels like he’s ready to drift off. “Emma has a meet on Sunday, if you wanted to come.”

“She want me there?”

“She asked for you. You don't have to.”

“Want. What time?”

 

The meet starts at two and his plane gets in at one thirty.

He speeds and shows up at 1:58 still in his wrinkled suit with tape around his wrist and a huge bouquet of gerbera daisies.

He squeezes down the aisle to get to Sidney, who moves his coat when Geno gets close enough so he can sit next to him on the bleacher.

“What time did your flight get in,” Sid asks as he narrowly avoids getting hit in the face with the flowers.

“1:30.”

“How did you get here?”

A mother a few rows up turns around and shushes them. Sid shoots her a dirty look.

“Maybe speed a little bit.”

“Geno.”

“Had to stop and get flowers. Had to be here. Didn't want to be late.”

“I would rather you be safe.”

Geno shakes his head and hands the flowers to Sid so he can take his jacket off, elbowing the knees of the people behind him.

“You know you didn't have to do this,” he says as Geno takes the flowers back.

“Had to bring her something. Is big deal.”

“You didn't bring me anything.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and Geno leans over and presses a kiss to it.

“For you,” he says and the music starts.

 

Emma refuses to let Sid carry the flowers and insists on lugging them out to the car, preening each time someone stops to tell her that they're pretty.

She skips out to the car and reluctantly lets Geno hold the flowers while Sid buckles her in and makes grabby hands towards them as soon as she can.

“Daddy, can I put these in my room?”

“If we have a case that's big enough.”

“Glad you like,” Geno tells her. “You deserve.”

She smiles wide and traces the edge of one of the petals with her fingertip.

“Next time get you bigger one.”

She's thrilled and thanks Geno in advance as Sid closes the door.

“Thank you for coming, even if you did speed to get here.”

“Not so bad, Sid.”

“Don't do that again. I'm serious.”

“Best driver.”

Sid doesn't look impressed.

“Do you want to get dinner on Friday? I was thinking about going to Altius.”

“Kinda fancy for little kid.”

“Maybe it could be just the two of us. I can get a sitter.”

“Sid. Sound like date.”

“That's exactly what it is. And the sitter can stay til midnight that night so…”

“So. Get dinner at seven. Done by eight thirty. Lots of time for date afterwards.”

“Yup. You think you can come up with something for us to do?”

“Have some ideas.”

“Good.” He makes a show of looking Geno up and down. “So do I.”

*

Sid has to come from practice so they decide to meet at the restaurant.

Geno has made reservations so the hostess leads him past the line of people to a cozy table towards the back.

He's a little surprised that he's the first one there but he knows how hockey practices can be. If a kid needed extra help with something Sid wouldn't think twice about staying a little later and Geno wouldn't blame him.

He can wait.

He orders wine and when Sid’s ten minutes late he orders an appetizer figuring that it’ll get to the table around the same time Sid will. He’ll probably be starving.

It comes ten minutes later and Sids still not here.

The waiter is starting to get anxious which makes Geno anxious and when he sends off a _did I get restaurant wrong_ text to Sid it goes unanswered.

Worst case scenarios race through his mind and after forty five minutes of waiting he flags down the waiter to ask for the check.

 

Sid’s car is in the driveway and the lights in the house are on.

Geno tampers down a hint of annoyance about being forgotten as he knocks on the door.

It takes him awhile but Sid opens the door with an armful of stuffed animals and one very small purple and pink polka-dot raincoat draped over the top.

Sid looks annoyed too and Geno is ready to defend himself because _he_ was the one who went all the way to the restaurant only to be _forgotten_ when Sid yanks his arm free from the pile of toys and throws his hand over his mouth.

The raincoat slips to the floor.

“I am so sorry,” it comes out slightly muffled until Sid moves his hand to the side of his face. “I am so sorry, I completely forgot. Emma got sick and I just...I had to leave work early and find someone to cover for me so practice wouldn’t be cancelled and I- it completely slipped my mind. I’m so sorry.”

He steps back and Geno takes it as an invitation, knocking his boots against the baseboard to shake the snow off and wiping them on the mat.

“It’s okay, Sid.”

He picks up the raincoat and hangs it on the lowest hook.

“She’s been sick before but never this sick and I couldn’t think of anything else but trying to make her feel better and then I felt like a failure because nothing I did made her feel better and then that’s all I could think about. How much of a failure I am.”

“No, shhh, Sid,” he says softly as he puts both his hands on Sid’s shoulders. “Not a failure. Is she okay?”

“No, she’s sick,” he snaps, “I just told you that.”

Geno slides his hands up to rest on the side of his neck, thumbs gently rubbing at the hinge of his jaw. “No, she _okay,_ don’t need to go to the hospital or anything?”

“No. I called her doctor and she said as long as the fever doesn’t get any higher and she doesn’t complain about abdominal pain she should be okay. She doesn’t even think it’s the flu.”

“Okay, then you did all you can for her. Can’t be a failure if you try.”

Sid looks like he wants to argue before he blows out a breath and sits down heavily on the arm of the couch. A giraffe dislodges from the group and Geno grabs it before it falls and sit’s down on the edge of the coffee table.

“But she’s so little.”

Geno nods.

“And she can’t keep anything down and you-.” He looks at Geno with a mildly horrified expression. “You went to the restaurant and you waited. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Are you mad? I think I would be mad.”

“Not mad.”

Sid looks like he doesn’t believe him and Geno laughs.

“Not mad. Worried. You don’t show and you didn’t call. Didn’t pick up your phone. Get worried something happened to you.”

“I don’t even know where my phone is.”

Geno takes a quick scan of the room and believes it. It’s not what he would call a disaster- he’s seen the way rookie’s living on their own for the first time keep their apartments- but he knows that Sid can’t be happy with the disorganization.

“It’s okay. Glad you’re okay. Both of you.” He taps Sid’s knee with his hand to get him to lift his head. “You need help with anything? Can go to the store for you.”

“It’s late, Geno.”

“Lots of places still open.”

Sid looks like he’s ready to argue but when he opens his mouth all he does is heave a sigh. “We don’t need a lot. I just don’t know when I’ll be able to go."

Geno takes his phone out of his coat pocket and opens up the notes app. He scoops the stuffed animals out of Sid’s arms before he hands the phone over. “Make a list of everything you need. I’ll go get it.”

Sid seems hesitant at first but then he starts typing, pausing between words and looking straight ahead before he nods and remembers something to add to the list.

Geno dumps the animals into the toy box in the corner of the room and by the time he gets the lid to close Sid’s standing and holding the phone out.

It’s a simple list, paper towels, chicken broth, baby carrots and a few other staples.

“This is all you need.”

Sid nods and then shakes his head and takes the phone back. He adds apple juice and macaroni and cheese to the list.

Geno mentally adds a few other things.

“Let me get you some money.”

Geno puts the phone back into his pocket. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Geno-.”

“I was going to pay for dinner. Same thing.”

“But-.”

He’s interrupted by Emma calling for him from the top of the stairs.

“Go,” Geno says as he wraps his scarf tighter around his neck. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Geno.”

Geno’s fingers pause at the top button of his coat. Sid looks exhausted and defeated and grateful all at the same time and Geno ducks down to kiss his forehead as Emma is calls him again and Sid bounds up the stairs two at a time.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked so you don’t have to wait for me,” he says when he turns halfway up. “And thank you.”

Geno gets to Whole Foods twenty minutes before it’s supposed to close and races around the store throwing everything that’s on the list and then some into the cart.

He gets three different types of juice just in case, organic animal crackers, ginger tea, chicken noodle soup, and chocolate chip cookies for when she’s feeling better.

His best smile does nothing to appease the cashier at the front who looks like she just wants to go home so he tosses out a _‘sick kid’_ when she scans the crackers and the soup.

Her expression softens, just a bit, and after he pulls his card out of the machine and gathers his bags she says “I hope they feel better.”

The door is unlocked when he gets back so he lets himself in.

The house is silent and Sid is dead asleep on the couch, face mashed into a pillow and clutching a stuffed polar bear to his chest.

Geno is hit with a rush of fondness at the sight of him and he stands there watching him sleep until the bags in his arms get too heavy and awkward and he takes them into the kitchen to unload.

It takes some trial and error to figure out where everything goes- Sid keeps his bread in a box on the top of the fridge and crackers in the cabinet next to the sink- but all that’s left to do is figure out how to get the bottles of juice into the fridge.

He’s struggling, the soup and a container of leftovers have threatened to fall out numerous times, when he hears soft footsteps come down the stairs.

He closes the fridge and hears something fall against the door just as Emma clears the last step.

They stare at each other.

She’s barefoot with tangled hair that she would only get from tossing and turning. Her face is red and splotchy like she’s been crying and she tugs at her Moana nightgown. She looks miserable and all Geno wants to do is make her feel better. He just doesn't know how. 

“Where’s my dad?”

“He’s asleep.”

“He wasn’t in his room.”

“He’s on the couch.”

She eyes him suspiciously, not looking away from him as she moves into the living room and rounds the other side of the couch.

Geno is frozen in place.

She seems to relax when she sees Sid and stands over him for a moment before tip toeing back to the kitchen.

“I’m thirsty,” she announces and Geno springs back to life.

“Bought juice. Apple and cranberry and-.”

“Daddy says I should only have water until I start to feel better.”

“Water, okay, easy.”

He opens the cabinet as Emma pulls herself onto one of the stools.

“I like the purple one with Nemo on it.”

“Nemo is…”

“The clown fish.”

“Right. Haven't watched that movie yet." He grabs the glass and turns on the tap.

 

He fills her glass and she stares at it, her bottom lip sticking out.

“Daddy said I'm not supposed to have a lot.”

“Take few sips and see how you feel.”

She drags the glass over, water splashing over the side and onto the counter.

He searches for paper towels while she takes a drink.

She pushes the glass away and sits back. Geno eyes her warily.

“You okay? Going to be sick?”

She shakes her head slowly. “No. I don't think so.”

Geno smiles. “Good. Starting to feel better.”

On the couch Sid snores softly.

Emma takes a few more careful sips, stopping after each one and taking a deep breath that has Geno leaning towards where the garbage can is.

She drinks half the glass before trying to get down from the stool but it’s not as easy as climbing up so Geno has to help her.

He sets her down and she doesn’t let go of his hand when she starts towards the stairs.

“I want to go back to bed and my unicorn fell under the bed and I can’t reach it.”

She tugs him all the way up the stairs and into her room.

There’s a nightlight on her dresser that’s spinning and projecting sea animals onto the ceiling.

The room is dim but he can still make out a pink beanbag chair in the corner next to a wooden dollhouse. There a low table in the middle of the room already set with a plastic tea set with a soft grey elephant sitting in one of the chairs.

It’s cute. Like something out of a magazine and he feels warm all over at the thought of Sid pulling this all together on his own.

“My unicorn is down there.”

Emma has the blankets pulled up to her chin and she’s pointing to the space between the bed and the wall.

“I can’t sleep without him.”

It takes a few tries with him leaning over the bed, careful of Emma’s feet, and swiping around in the dark but eventually his fingertips collide with something soft and he pulls up the unicorn and tucks it in beside her.

“Need anything else?” She shakes her head but bites her lip, looking like she has more she wants to say.

Sid does the same thing.

“You feeling okay? Okay if you’re not.”

He lays his hand softly across her forehead and frowns. She still feels warm.

Her voice so quiet when she speaks he almost doesn’t hear her.

“Is he mad at me?”

The question catches him off guard. “Who?”

“My dad. You were supposed to have a date tonight and then I got sick.”

“You think he's mad at you for that?”

She nods and Geno grabs one of the little chairs so he can sit beside her. “Oh no, no, no, little, he's not mad. Never be mad about that. He loves you so much.”

“But he really wanted to see you tonight.”

She looks up at him, blue eyes full of unshed tears and Geno's heart breaks. He smooths his hand over her hair.

“He's not mad, I promise. Was so worried about you. All he wants is for you to get better. You're most important.”

“Are you mad?”

“Of course not. There are other days to go out. Maybe you come with us when you feel better.”

She brightens. “Really?”

“Yeah. You could come to another game.”

She wrinkles her nose.

“You still don’t like?”

“It’s cold and boring.”

“You had fun at my game.”

“There was a lot of food and it wasn’t cold all the way up there.”

“Just have to stay up there and eat then. But we can do other things too. Whatever you want.”

“I want to mini golf.”

“Might have to wait until spring,” he says as he thinks about the snow on the ground outside.

“I can wait. You can go out alone until then. I think he’ll like that.”

Geno rests an elbow on her bed and cradles his chin in his palm.

“You think so?”

“He talks about you a lot.”

“Oh?”

“He’s alone a lot.”

“He has you. Never alone.”

She doesn’t look impressed. “He should be friends with people his own age. That’s what he told me when I started first grade and I think he really wants to be your friend.”

“You think?”

She settles down against her pillow.

“What about you? What you think is very important.”

She looks at him, considering, and pulls her unicorn tighter under her chin. “I like you.You always bring donuts and maybe someday you could teach me to skate. I’d like to figure skate.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“Maybe we both could learn?”

Geno laughs as she closes her eyes.

“I like my jacket too,” she whispers as she drifts off.

 "Hey."

Geno turns to the door and sees Sid standing in the light of the hall. Her has his arms crossed over his chest but drops one and holds his hand out.

Geno stands up and takes it as soon as he can. 

Sid pulls him through the door and leaves it open a crack. 

“Do you really want to be my friend, Sid,” Geno teases and then grunts as Sid pushes him against the wall.

His whole body tenses because the only time someone manhandles him like that is on the ice and usually there's a fist coming at his face a few seconds after.

But there's no fist.

Just Sid’s hands sliding around his waist and their lips being pressed together a moment later.

"I think I'm done with slow," Sid says. "If you can put up with all this...I think we're ready to do this for real. Do you think we're ready?"

"Think I'm in love. Both of you, most important things."

Sid kisses him then pulls him down the hall towards his room. 

 

In the morning Sid kisses his forehead then slips out of his arms.

Geno watches him get dressed and reaches out to grab his wrist and drag him down for one more kiss before he goes to check on Emma. 

 

They win the cup in June.

It's hectic on the ice after the game. 

Family members and media and more photographers than he's ever seen. 

He's pushed in front of a man with a microphone who congratulates him and asks him what his plans for the off season are. 

Sid and Emma are standing behind the camera, both dressed in his jersey. Emma is holding a terrible towel and Sid is holding her. 

"Just hang out with family. Be good to spend more time."

He thanks the reporter and the camera guy before he skates over to them. 

"I'm so proud of you," Sid says and Emma reaches her arms out towards him. 

Geno pulls them both into a hug.

 


End file.
